


How Can You Miss Someone You Never Met

by CigaretteDaydreamss



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Character Study, Dead Wilbur Soot, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghostbur, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Memory Loss, Mentioned Niki | Nihachu, Oneshot, Sad Wilbur Soot, Songfic, Things I Remember by Ghostbur, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CigaretteDaydreamss/pseuds/CigaretteDaydreamss
Summary: Wilbur has been dead for quite some time now, and he doesn't mind it all that much.However, as the days go by, he finds himself drifting further and further into the abyss of his own mind. And now, he can't remember Niki.Songfic: IDK You Yet by Alexander 23(This is a character study!)
Relationships: Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot
Kudos: 68





	How Can You Miss Someone You Never Met

_ How can you miss someone you never met? _

Wilbur stares blankly down at the empty book in front of him, the quill in his hand dripping a deep ink splotch onto the paper.

Every morning at the crack of dawn, Wilbur opens this book, and he writes. He writes about people, places, smells, or even just feelings. Anything he can remember from Alive Wilbur’s time on earth.

He starts a new page every day; the book is growing full. 

Sometimes, although it was rarely at first, he would have to flip back through the old pages. Sometimes, he simply couldn’t remember. This was one of those times.

Wilbur has noticed that his mind has been slipping more often than not as of late. He finds himself rereading the old pages more and more. 

The only thing he remembers today is a feeling, one he can’t seem to put into words. How can you describe something you don’t even understand?

He’s trying not to rely on the book. He’s trying  _ so fucking hard _ , but he’s suffocating in the blankness of his mind. The lack of thoughts is crushing him, placing an invisible weight on his shoulders he forced to lug around.

Wilbur realizes he’s doing it again- blanking out. He can no longer hear the gleeful popping of the flames in his fireplace, and the cold that comes with the night has set into his underground home; it pricks at his bones, yet he’s numb to it. The unknown cold had made its home in his heart long ago.

The page in front of him is left with only a long dried splash of ink, the quill still suspended above it. He hadn’t written anything- hadn’t been able to. He doesn’t remember what he should have been writing about in the first place.

“Right,” Wilbur breathes after peering at the cover, the words  _ Things I Remember _ written in his own messy scrawl mocking him.

He redips the feather and takes a deep breath (not that he needs it anymore). He reaches into his own mind, desperately grasping at the feeling bouncing around in his head.

_ ‘Cause I need you now but I don’t know you yet. _

He can faintly smell bread, warm and crisp and filling the air. He almost chokes on the overwhelming feeling of fondness that accompanies it.

_ Fondness- fondness for what? For who?  _ Wilbur scrunches his face up in thought, his chest flaring with an irrational warmth.

He grapples for the memory, the memories echoing faintly in his head. He sees a bakery, flowers, and the bright sun staining the backs of his eyelids. He hears a laugh, light and airy. He smells a floral perfume, mixing with the vanilla tang of unbaked goods. 

He loses it.

_ But can you find me soon because I'm in my head? _

The quill splits in half between his clenched fist. He huffs loudly, the blank pages taunting him. Wilbur smoothes out the paper one more time.

_ The smell of bread _

He can’t bring himself to write anymore. He knows he’s written this before, he knows that he used to be able to place the girl that came along with this smell and the laughter echoing in his head. If he were to just flip back through the pages, he would see the name glaring back at him. 

But it feels like cheating. 

Wilbur wishes she were with him right now, whoever she is.

_ Yeah, I need you now but I don't know you yet. _

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos and don't be afraid to leave suggestions for my writing or even prompts!


End file.
